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bluemoonbabes · 11 months

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Glass Wall

Debris nbc. Bryan introspection.

There are days where Bryan feels as though he’s stuck within the Uncanny Valley, something that looks human, that should be human, but isn’t quite. He knows that he’s human, but his certainty it in is subverted as he flounders through the sea of larger society. There’s something beneath the surface that’s off to others, something that skews the smiles he gets, something that makes people look his way a second to long, something that shifts the way people treat him. Something that makes people ignore him.

He feels it now especially as he sits in the corner of an Orbital office party, some buff, untouched liquid in a candy red cup, probably a shitty beer from the gas station few blocks south with the flickering sign, buzzing fan, and one ceiling panel in the back missing its corner. He grabbed the cup because he’d thought he’d drink it, but now, staring down into it as it sloshes against plastic, it’s minutely repulsive. Not overwhelmingly so, he just can’t bring himself to lift the cup to his lips.

He’s posted in a good spot, the wall a stabilizing comfort against his back as he watches over the living room and the kitchen, the front door nearest him. That’s one possible exit. There’s a hall he can see too, but not the bedrooms or bathroom that branch off of it, drawing his eyes back down that way every so often just in case. He can see part of the dining room and part of the backyard through landscape windows and the screen door that slams as Brandt and Claire parade their way through to the dinning table, a second possible exit that smacks his ears like someone bopped him, and flinches, almost, kind of, the noise jolting through his body yet he hides it well enough.

Tom is near the door with Mallory and someone he doesn’t know. Lester and several techs have taken up the couch and two plush chairs. Agent Kazemi and her husband are nitpicking the buffet as Grace and Alvin scour through it, Muntz judging them from the sidelines as he nibbles on cheese. He’s not sure who all is in the dinning room, but he can spot Brandt, Claire, and Niels among them. Several are outside, and Bryan catches Gibson, Maddox, Mackie, and Finola, which is exactly where his eyes keep circling back to, because Finola is the one person he feels most comfortable with, but she isn’t with him, and while he says he trusts his coworkers he knows that’ll never be wholly true. All he has is himself and Finola, and Finola isn’t with him, so he has to make sure she’s fine while also keeping watch over himself. He knows they’re safe but never entirely, and what if tonight is the night that something goes wrong? What if tonight someone snaps or something breaks or boundaries are overstepped, and Finola gets up hurt or missing or dead? (He’s never really feared for his own life. Not truly. Not when he spent years facing down Death every day). Because it’s so many fucking people here, crowded together in a confined space, and Bryan can only spot two exits, maybe seven if he counts windows, and confined space with big groups is where things go wrong.

Yet consciously he knows he’s safe. He knows he’s overreacting, because the self preservation part of his brain has been burned into eternal survival mode because it’s the only reason that he’s still alive today and it won’t shut off no matter what he does, not until he’s exhausted and drained and nothing but a body that sags and lags. He knows that this isn’t normal, but it’s the only normal he knows, and again he feels like the living version of the Uncanny Valley as he stands here alone, because no one else understands, no one even tries, and he’s starting to question whether or not he’s entirely human again because the side eyes and minute (he can’t tell if it’s confusion or repulsion) he gets when he does try to be open up and be honest prick his skin in all the wrong ways, all the painful ways, like what he’s what he’s saying and doing and even how he’s breathing is wrong, because they don’t even fucking try to understand, they just want him gone because god forbid a disabled person takes up any space.

He knows almost every person at this party and gets along with them fine. But only on a professional level. Only on a “hi, how are you? wonderful weather today” level. He knows that they know something is different with him on a deeper level, so while they smile and play polite, they never stick around long enough to know him. There’s this disconnect between him and the rest of humanity that Bryan can’t quite put his finger on, like there’s the glass wall between them that they’re both consciously aware of but that’s only recognizable when you really, really look at it.

It’s not that he wants to be separate. He wants to connect with others, almost desperately so. But his brain has been altered in a way that changes the rhythm of his person, because he’s been taught to socialize a certain way, taught to operate a certain way, and spent his youth learning that that’s the only way to survive because they people who failed were fucking killed. Like they’re swimming together in a current but one of his fins have been cut off, and he’s still swimming, but he has to do it in a different way in order to survive. Except that difference born out of survival freaks some people out, even disgusts some people, and no one is willing to be compassionate, no one is willing to be empathetic, no one registers that he’s disabled, all they see is that he’s ‘different’ (and ‘different’ so often morphs into something painful), so Bryan’s just here, in his own little corner, watching the world move on without him at a faster pace than he can keep up with. He’s got his fin back, but it’ll never be the same, so now he’s having to relearn to swim, and fucking hell does it suck, especially when he’s stranded in deep waters by himself.

Oh, and how angry that makes him, but that anger doesn’t take hold right now. Right now, he’s tense, his back rigid and shoulders fixed and neck stiff as it’s always been, his knees and hips eternally aching because he’s pretty damn sure that he’s got chronic pain now from hyper vigilance and tearing up his body in war, but it’s not like doctors ever gave enough of a shit for him to get diagnosed because they ‘see it in every veteran’. Right now, his ears are clogged with conversation and some song playing in the back, and while he’s certain he could listen in on someone if he focused, he doesn’t have that concentration now as every single sound, every single word, every single note is filters through his ears, mashing together in a sickening kind of static. Right now, there are bodies moving constantly around him and he’s separate from the one person he trusts, so he’s got to keep and eye on himself and Finola.

He knows he’ll be angry late though, because he’s always angry later, angry at himself, angry at his PTSD, angry at the world and life itself, when everything is quiet and his mind is given free reign. He hates those moments the most, hates inactivity and silence because the moment he isn’t moving is the same moment that he starts spiraling, sometimes slowly, sometimes very quickly, and next thing he knows he’s frozen as he washes dishes or brushes his teeth, dissociating into nothing, the vague scent of blood stained in his nostrils.

The screen door slams again and he flinches, almost, sort of, and his eyes fall immediately to Finola as she trails his way. She greets him gently with a small smile and a soft touch to his shoulder.

“You okay?” She asks.

Define okay, he wants to say, because if okay means surviving, then yeah, he’s fantastic. But if okay meanings good, then no, he’s not good and he’s not okay. So Bryan just shrugs.

“Yeah,” He says, and his voice is weak, drained by the ongoing, never ending, quietly painful commotion around him.

Finola, though, just looks at him, concerned and tender. She doesn’t need to clarify to know her answer because she can see it on his face, because she’s always been attentive that way, because she’s always been compassionate that way, because that’s part of why Bryan’s fallen in love with her.

“Ready to go?” She asks.

And he loves her all the more, nodding his head. She takes his hand and leads them out because she knows how uncomfortable he gets when someone walks behind him, their presence pressing down on his back as their footsteps trample out of sight, because she is safest where he can see her.

It’s quiet outside, and it feels like a bubble that swelled his head has popped as the door closes behind him, the sweet relief of quiet and fresh air. They head to their car, and one safely inside, Finola puts on soft songs at quiet volumes because she knows how much he hates the silence.

“Why don’t we get some shitty food and spend the rest of the night at home?” She asks.

And Bryan nods, because he’s so exhausted.

#edited because org fic was written at 6am in a state of delirium #idk if it’s explicitly cannon but it’s at least implied that bryan has or does struggle with ptsd #which makes him disabled #and oh boy do i want to talk about it #idk how though #there’s so much anger and ache and exhaustion that comes with ptsd #im writing a fic that deals with a piece of debris that alters bodies #im not wholly confident in publishing it tho bc it deals with v sensitive subjects #like trauma and body dysmphoria and gender dysphoria and ableism #i feel like it’s very niche #but it’s been v therapeutic to write #anyway #finola jones #bryan beneventi #debris nbc #fanfic #blue’s smexy writing

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lions-den-collective · 10 months

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it took ONE country song to call TC to the front I'm cackling

#m tag #macdon tag #tc tag #systemsillies #plural #plurality #system shenanigans #for reference usually strong feelings of anger or stress tend to make him front #but we put on luke bryan and voila he's here

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letterboxd-loggd · 1 year

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The Green Man (1956) Robert Day

December 11th 2022

#the green man #1956 #robert day #alastair sim #george cole #jill adams #terry-thomas #raymond huntley #avril angers #john chandos #colin gordon #dora bryan #eileen moore #arthur brough #cyril chamberlain #vivien wood #marie burke #lucy griffiths

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xx-like-a-villian-xx · 2 months

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I Hate You | Two

Here is part two! Thank you for all of your support on the first part. Enjoy!

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in future posts :)

CW: smut, jealous Noah and Reader, angry sex, possessive Noah, Noah is a munch, P in V unprotected sex, hair pulling, sneaking around, feelings (lots of feelings), alcohol consumption (but not much), let me know if I missed anything.

taglist: @concreteburialplot @lyschko666

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

Fuck this.

Noah was playing a dangerous fucking game and you were just about ready to grab him by the hair and drag him out of the damn club in front of everyone, or maybe scream in his fucking face.

It was the end of tour and of course you were celebrating at some fancy club, it was tradition. The issue? Well Noah had some blonde bombshell in his lap that had basically pounced on him the moment you walked in.

Sure, you weren’t dating, ew, why would you want to date Noah? He’s a piece of shit. But you couldn’t contain the anger boiling inside your blood at the sight. Her hands were all over him, making the same journey that yours did in the venue shower after the last show and the thought made you want to vomit.

Fucking asshole.

”Everything okay, Y/N? You’ve hardly touched your drink.” Jolly slid onto the barstool next to you, beer in hand.

Dragging your eyes away from the torturous scene in front of you, you smiled half heartedly, taking a sip of your vodka soda. “Yeah, just tired.”

When your eyes dropped back to Noah, Jolly’s followed and he rolled his eyes knowingly. Of course he knew about the little cat and mouse chase situationship you had with Noah, everyone did by that point except your brother (but he was oblivious to most things). No matter how much you pretended to hate each other, they could practically taste the sexual tension in the air whenever you were in the same room and the fact that they could never find you both just sealed it.

“How much are you betting that he takes her back to the hotel?” Jolly wanted to add salt to the wound, get under your skin to see if you’d actually do something other than pine after the guy.

Act cool. Act casual.

”Eh, I think she’s a bit too forward for his liking.” You finished your drink and stood from your seat.

Jolly watched you walk towards the bar, watching how your hips sway with each step and his eyes darted to Noah who was staring back at him with fiery eyes. Oh. Funny. Jolly smirked to himself. He had a plan and it could end with him receiving a broken nose.

Drinks were flowing and you were dancing with Laura, one of the lighting techs on the cramped dance floor, moving your hips to the loud R&B music. You were feeling less tense now you were away from the quiet area, away from Noah but you could still see him with the blonde out of the corner of your eye.

Your brother was smoking outside with Bryan and Matt. You had no idea where Nicholas was but you could see Jolly eyeing you from the bar and maybe it was the alcohol but there was something in his gaze that made you beckon him towards you.

Jolly’s huge hands were on your hips then, his head buried in your neck as you started to grind your ass against him, throwing your arms back around his neck. You were lost in the music and the heat from his body moving against yours, weightless on the middle of the dance floor. Until you heard the blonde yelp over the music.

”You. Outside, now!” Noah looked furious and your thighs pressed together with need. His face was flushed red, eyes so dark they may as well have been a black abyss. He looked almost demonic and god it was a gorgeous sight.

You looked around him at the blonde who looked utterly flabbergasted at his actions and smirked which Noah noticed, dragging you by the arm out of the busy club.

”What was that?” He had dragged you outside, around the corner where no one would be privy to the conversation.

You shrugged, clicking your tongue. “What was what, Noah? Can’t a girl have a little fun? Seems like you were quite content with blondie, huh?” You spat venomously.

He only caged you against the brick wall, looming over you and you could almost see the flames of rage dancing in his irises. “Don’t do that shit, Y/N.”

You pouted up at him sarcastically. “Oh no, did I upset you? Seems like double standards though doesn’t it? God forbid I dance with a friend while you’re practically making out with someone ten feet away.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not like we’re dating is it?”

You attempted to slide underneath his arm to walk away but he only pulled you back and pressed his body against yours, pulling your face to his with a tight grip. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

Before you could respond his lips were on yours, teeth clashing together as he kissed you hard, with so much ferocity that it made your head spin. His hands were gripping your hips so tight you would feel bruises in the morning and it felt like heaven. Gasping for air, you pulled away, only to whine when his teeth grazed over your throat.

”You’re mine,”

What did he say?

Your fingers gripped the hair at the base of his neck and pulled his head back, a sly smirk dancing across your lips.

”In what world am I yours?” You chuckle darkly.

“Every fucking one of them.” He growled, pressing his lips back to yours.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It didn’t take long for an Uber to arrive and Noah was quick to tell the driver to step on the gas as his hand gripped your thigh possessively. You were back in your hotel room in no time, his body pressed against yours before you could even turn to lock the door.

You were on fire, face burning, thighs pressing together to gain some kind of friction, anything. His huge hands were all over you, fingers finding the hem of your dress to yank it over your head and you couldn’t get enough.

For weeks you had been sneaking around with him, finding yourself being dragged into bathrooms and broom closets after verbally berating each other, catching yourself sending pictures to him just to hear him groan from his bunk like a feral dog. You were obsessed with making him go insane for you, for your body but this felt different.

There was now something else in his touch, something so much more possessive and animalistic that it made your stomach lurch with need and an arousal like no other pool in your underwear, just begging to be quenched.

Fuck, was it feelings? Did you have feelings for Noah Fucking Sebastian? Surely not, right?

”Fuck me, you’re fucking stunning.” His words were gruff, his lips latching to your throat as his hands slid up waist, your stomach, everywhere, finally reaching your bra to slide the straps from your shoulders and pull it down.

His fingers found the hardened peaks on your chest, softly pinching them, pressing his forehead against yours to revel in the gasp that left your lips. His eyes were so dark, almost black, staring down at you with an unhinged lust that had you silently pleading with him to stop the fucking games and fuck you, please.

”Fuck, please.” With a soft moan, you rolled your head back against the wall,

He chuckled darkly. “You’re so fucking needy.”

Before you could retort, he was lifting you, wrapping your legs against his hips just to throw you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your pink thong to pull them down at a pace that was criminally slow.

“Look at you, so fucking wet for me.” His smirk was so cocky and if you weren’t so far gone, you might have used the leg he wasn’t pushing to your chest to kick him.

He settled between your thighs, eyes trained on your dripping cunt, running his tongue over his lips as though he was starving and you practically drooled at the sight, your hands reaching out to latch on to his hair, tugging at the roots.

His tongue darted out to drag a long stripe between your folds, humming in delight at taste before diving in, dark eyes locked onto your face to watch every reaction he was pulling from you. Your back arched off the bed and the moan that left your mouth was filthy, disgusting when his tongue flicked against your clit. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy, his arms pushing your legs up so he could eat you exactly how you needed and it didn’t take long for that burning fire to ignite in the depths of your stomach, legs shaking violently in his hold.

”Oh fuck, I’m gonna c-cum!” You yelped, hands gripping his hair tighter and the growl that escaped him vibrated against your clit, sending you over the edge with a scream.

He lapped at your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore, weakly dragging him up to your face to pull him into a filthy kiss, your tongue licking your own arousal from his mouth. Fuck he tasted so heavenly with you on his lips.

His hands fumbled with his belt as he feverishly kissed you and before you could even catch your breath, he was pushing into you, groaning against your mouth.

”Fuck…” he whined, pressing his forehead against yours to give you a second to adjust. “I can’t get enough of this pussy.”

His hips snapped forward, burying himself so deep inside you that any thoughts in your brain were wiped. His hand slid up to your throat, gripping the sides just enough to make your eyes roll back in your head and he smirked, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

”You take my cock so well.” You whimpered at his words, revelling in how full he made you feel. “It’s like you were made for me.”

”It’s all yours.” God, you really were his, only his, no one could ever make you feel how he did and it was infuriating.

”That’s right, you’re mine.” He gritted, sharply snapping his hips into you, fucking you so deeply you thought you might pass out from the pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him, that warm feeling building up again, tightness pooling in your stomach.

”Are you gonna cum again, greedy girl?” He cooed, earning a brain dead whine from you.

His hand slipped between your bodies and his thumb pressed against your clit, cock hitting you so perfectly against that spot inside you that had you falling apart around him.

The noise that left your mouth as you came violently around his cock could only be described as banshee scream. Fireworks were bursting behind your closed eyes, your back arched so far off the bed, you were sure you looked possessed and god it felt so good.

”Good fucking girl.” Noah pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue dancing with yours. With a whimper against your lips, he pulled out, emptying himself on your stomach.

You couldn’t move. You were so fucked out when he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a wet flannel to clean up your messes. The room was silent when he lay next to you, tracing circles on your stomach.

”Noah, what is this?” You sighed after a while, heart pounding in your chest.

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with soft eyes.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, all those weeks of messing around had changed something in you. All of the hatred had turned into something else, something that tugged at your heart and made your head spin. You fixed your gaze on the ceiling, bracing yourself for the let down.

”I already told you, you’re mine.” He laughed lightly and your eyes snapped to him. “And I think I’m yours. We’re past the point of hiding it.”

”Really?” You gulped. Was he admitting that he wanted you the same way?

”Yes, Y/N. I think I was yours a long time ago.”

You grinned, reaching out to push his messy hair from his forehead. “Mine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Come on, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” Matt rushed around the lobby while everyone else dawdled along, hungover and exhausted from the previous night.

You picked your bag up from the floor, following him out to the bus that was waiting. You hadn’t seen your brother yet which was weird, you guessed that he was still getting his stuff together in his hotel room. When you stepped onto the bus, there you saw him, staring at you with fiery eyes.

“Everything okay, Nick?” You raised an eyebrow, placing your bag next to him on the couch.

His jaw ticked and his eyes darted to the door, watching Noah enter.

”Noah, when were you going to tell me that you’re fucking my sister?”

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens cult #bad omens band #badomens #bad omens #band fic #fanfiction

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little-diable · 8 months

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I Remember Everything - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Written for my lovely @runnning-outof-time - I hope this is what you had in mind with this story. Inspired by Zach Bryan's song "I Remember Everything". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy only smiles when he gets to drink, (y/n) only dares to marvel at her best friend when he’s distracted. A rising sun and moments shared since childhood days finally bring the two closer together.

Warnings: 18+, piv smut, quite soft smut, friends to lovers, some angst because of family troubles, mentions that the reader didn’t have an easy past but nothing specific

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 2.5k words)

An eerie silence wrapped itself around the two. His piercing eyes kept staring at the almost empty glass of his, trying to burn holes into the shards that could easily cut his aching heart. She wanted to speak up, wanted to break through the silence that grew thicker like soldiers moving closer with their unbreakable shield wall, but she couldn’t.

She watched him pour alcohol down his throat, one glass after another, desperately trying to drown his pain, his guilt, his anger in one of the devil’s finest creations. Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak to the man she longed for, desperately trying to soothe his pain.

It had always been like this, ever since they’ve been young children. He’d keep his every sorrow bottled in, relying on his closest friend to take away the pain he couldn’t get rid of without her help. Tommy Shelby was a good man, a man with a pure heart and too much blood sticking to his fingers, but Tommy Shelby was also a blind man, an overly oblivious man, not seeing through the pain (y/n) had to carry around with herself, unable to rely on the friend who could only worry about his business.

Whenever the ship he was sailing through uneasy waters was close to sinking, wood soaked through like the fabric tied to the high mast, she’d sail next to him, dragging him through every storm he found himself trapped in. Though while he mistook it for simple coincidences, allowing her to turn up whenever he needed him, she grew more uneasy by the minute, wondering how much longer she’d be able to keep up this charade.

“You see, Tommy.” She cleared her throat, fingers interlaced in her lap as if she was about to start praying. “You know by now that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, that’s what you called me here for after all, I guess. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”

A humourless laugh left the man who forced yet another cigarette between his lips, lips (y/n) found herself aching for whenever she got the time to marvel at the handsome man. Fuck, she wished she didn’t remember every moment on the days and nights she spent with him, and yet she couldn’t get rid of them, forced into her memories like the languages she had once been forced to learn, speaking them all too effortlessly by now.

“Do you remember how we’d sneak out at night to watch the sunrise?” Her soft voice filled the room once again, finally managing to force a smile onto his lips. To others it was an unfamiliar sight, Tommy Shelby wasn’t one to smile around others, wasn’t one to give away the emotions he found himself guided by, but with her it had always been different, with her it had always been transparent, well, besides the emotions both fostered for one another, unable to act on them. “Come.”

(Y/n) rose to her feet, hand stretched out for Tommy to take. It took him a moment to rise to his feet, cigarettes and alcohol long forgotten as she guided him out into the cold night. No words were spoken as he wrapped his arm around her middle, keeping her close in an almost too protective matter. Her heart pounded in her chest, a tad bit too fast, and yet slow enough to keep the way he made her feel hidden from his sharp gaze and his curious ears.

Both knew the route to that one empty house by heart, they’d always find their way to it, no matter where in the city they were staying at. But today both didn’t walk with fast steps, no, today they took their time, not wanting to let the passing by seconds turn into minutes and hours all too quickly.

“I’ve always wondered how you could so easily trust and help people you meet. It’s like a gift, a talent I can’t help but be jealous of.” Tommy’s soft voice cut through the fog of silence, tightening his grip on (y/n) as her eyes met his. The sounds of their steps echoed through the night, through the almost empty streets they’ve been waking for years. “You’ve been hurt, beaten, and abused. I’ve once sworn that I’ll kill whoever dares to touch you, and yet you managed to forgive them, each and every one of them. How?”

“Who is it, Tommy? What happened?” The two came to a halt in front of the old brick house as he let go of her to push his weight against the wooden door. It took him a few tries to finally open it, allowing them to step into the dark house. Tommy ignored her question, keeping quiet as they walked up the stairs, one by one, climbing higher like lost souls walking the stairs to a new life. But nothing new was awaiting the two up there, nothing but a still somewhat dark sky.

“You know, you’ve changed a lot, you’ll never be the man that you always swore, Tommy, but I know you’re no stranger to forgiveness. I think you’re afraid of it, whatever it is that plagues your mind.” The two entered the roof - with another cigarette placed between his lips and his fingers aching for yet another glass, Tommy walked closer to the edge of the familiar ground. She watched the smoke leave his nostrils, blown into the night like the lives he had taken over the past years, rising numbers that evaporated into the thin air, forgotten names and fates they no longer recalled.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, not when you know that you’re being betrayed, not when you know that those you should trust the most are trying to sell your life to the highest bidder.” A sharp inhale of the cold air was sucked into (y/n)’s lungs, arms wrapped around herself as she stepped closer to him. With her eyes set on the horizon, on the rising sun, she placed her chin on his shoulder, not daring to move. For a few more moments they cherished the quietness, watching the sky turn into the rawest colours known to humankind.

Tommy’s hand found hers, resting on his shoulder like it had done numerous times before. Slowly he turned towards (y/n), hand finding her chin to keep her eyes on him. (Y/n) always felt naked beneath his gaze, trying to cover up as if she was scared that her body would tell him all about the love she fostered for him. But Tommy didn’t give her the chance to move, thumb softly stroking her cold skin.

Both couldn’t help but ache for one another, though keeping quiet - even as (y/n) nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His hand found the back of her head, softly stroking her hair, eyes focused on the orange sky. Whenever he had found the strength to speak up, he had begged (y/n) to stay around till the sun would rise, needing to hold her close like a life vest meant to save him. She was everything he wished he didn’t ache for but desperately did.

“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, making his eyes flutter close at the unexpected gesture.

“Don’t make promises like that, (y/n). I’m no good friend, I’m selfish for keeping you around, but you’re the only good thing keeping me sane.” (Y/n) pushed him away to get a look at his features, all too used to the pain swimming in Tommy's bright pupils. She cupped his face with both hands, keeping the man close as she shook her head, wondering how she could explain to him that he was all she needed.

“We both know that’s not true, you’re my best friend, I’d die for you in a heartbeat, and I know you’d do the same for me.” Tommy gently pushed her hands away, eyes fluttering close for a second before a scoff left him. His hand rubbed his tired eyes, trying to hold back the words that no longer could be stopped from rolling off his tongue.

“Best friend, fuck, I wish that’d be enough for me, but it no longer is. I’ve been stupid, keeping my mouth shut for your own sake, but everything is burning around me, what loss will it be if I add more fuel to the flames, eh?” She didn’t understand what he was talking about, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted. With dilated pupils (y/n) watched him step closer once again, cupping her cheek with one hand, while the other found her neck.

His warm breath clashed against her tingling lips, wondering what he was about to do. They didn’t break eye contact, wondering who’d start moving first. (Y/n) felt her heart pounding, racing in her chest as her mind slowly began to realise what was about to happen. His lips found hers, kissing (y/n) slowly to give her the chance to pull away should she want to escape from this moment. But she didn’t, she was frozen to the ground, lips moving in sync with Tommy’s.

The sky looked as if it was burning, the flames kept rising higher, setting their bodies ablaze with its strength. Their moans rippled through them, echoing through the early morning like shots being fired in the distance. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of the alcohol he had forced down his throat an hour ago, while (y/n) tasted of home, of a feeling so unfamiliar Tommy found himself addicted within moments.

Both broke the kiss with aching lungs, needing to catch their breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. Neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to speak up, relishing in one another’s touch. Their bodies moved them down the stairs of the house, into the morning, with interlaced fingers and intertwined souls. He guided her back through the streets, finding their way to her apartment, to the home she had bought years ago and couldn’t dare to think of parting from it ever again.

“Tommy?” (Y/n) whispered his name as they shrugged out of their coats and stepped out of their shoes, finding back together at the first chance to move. “What does this mean?" She gestured between the both of them, staring at Tommy as if he was God himself, about to answer her every question. "I love you, but I can’t just be an easy distraction for you.”

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to express with words, with gifts, with gestures. You’re my home, (y/n). I once swore to always protect you, eh? I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He kissed her once again, allowing her gleeful chuckles to vibrate on his lips as she guided him into her bedroom, begging Tommy to show her how much he loved her, needing to feel him close.

“You’ll be the death of me, Tommy Shelby, what would my mother say when she’d see us like this?” His skilled fingers popped open the buttons of her dress one by one, letting the dark fabric fall to the ground as he pushed it down her shoulders.

“She’d force me to come to church with her, she’d wash my hands with holy water and would try to hide me away from your father. I'd probably be shipped off to some monastery, forced to become a priest. My eternal punishment for blemishing her daughter's soul.” (Y/n)‘s loud laugh echoed through her bedroom, a sound that was swallowed by her moans seconds later as he kissed her neck, pulling her into his chest. Her fingers started moving, freeing him of his vest, his shirt, and his trousers. Both were in a hurry to get one another naked, not wanting to give the fabrics keeping them apart any more time to distract them.

“Make me yours, forever.” Her sultry voice left the man groaning, pushing her down on her bed as he crawled up her frame, nestling between her thighs. Their kiss grew hungrier, sloppier as his hand moved down her frame, stroking her breasts, teasing her hardening nipples before he finally found her aching core. She was soaked, dripping for the man who found himself smiling down on her. It was unfamiliar to her, seeing him smile without any alcohol near, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but pray that she’d get to see this smile more often from now on.

“I’ve always wondered if I’d eventually get to see you like this, bare for me, for my eyes only. But this is better than I could have ever imagined.” Tommy’s praises left her gasping, eyes fluttering close as he circled her clit with his fingers, making her hyperaware of his every touch.

“Need you inside of me, Tommy, please. We’ve wasted too much time already.” A hum left him as he let go of her, pumping his cock for a few seconds before he spat down on it, lubing himself up. With one of her arms finding it’s way around his neck and her legs clinging to his waist, Tommy allowed himself to push into her, slowly, carefully.

Her walls pulsed around him, begging him to build a comfortable rhythm. Their bodies met with every thrust, pushed closer and closer together as they shared the love they felt without any words being spoken. Their bodies perfectly moved together, pushing them higher and higher with every thrust, with every moment where he pressed against her swollen spot, with every circling motion around her pulsing bundle of nerves.

Neither of them had ever experienced something this raw, something this full of emotions, something this intimate. No matter how many times they’ve been touched by lovers, strangers, and those they no longer could remember, it had never been this intense, this raw, this exciting.

“You’re so big, stretching me so good, don’t ever stop Tommy, don’t ever let me go, keep me forever.” Her whispers were torn between sobs and moans, a sound so beautiful Tommy wanted to record it, to keep it stored in his memories like the first time he had heard his son laugh. His lips found hers, sealing the promise with a loving kiss.

His pace grew rougher, chasing both their arising highs, set on pushing one another over the edge within the next moments. (Y/n) gave in first, eyes rolling back into her head, forcing her fingernails to scratch at his skin, leaving marks down his muscular back. He kept fucking her, forcing his cock to disappear deeper and deeper inside of her till his orgasm clawed through him, painting her walls white.

“I love you.” Her words left him smiling, letting go of her to reach for a tissue. Tommy took his time with cleaning her up before he pulled her into his chest, cradling her closer and closer.

“I’ll get you a ring in the afternoon.” She froze in his grasp, confused eyes flickering up to his. An almost boyish grin stuck to his lips, tilting his head down to kiss her slightly swollen lips. “You want forever, and I promise to give it to you, even if it’s the last promise I’ll be able to keep.”

I wish I didn't, but I do, remember every moment on the nights with you

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine

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insidethestardc · 2 years

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Cowboys Hoping for Balanced Performance on Special Teams in 2022

We’ve been rolling through the Cowboys roster in our 2022 training camp previews, and today we’re going to look at special teams. Dallas currently enjoys stability at punter and long snapper and hopes that a change at kicker will bring balance to the group. You have punter Bryan Anger and Jake McQuaide at long snapper on one end of the spectrum. They joined the Cowboys last year and did…

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#Bryan Anger #Jake McQuaide #Jonathan Garibay #Kicker #Lirim Hajrullahu #Long Snapper #Punter

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thesupreme316 · 8 months

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how would the aew boys react to you breaking your nose if you can can you add Kenny thank you love you work🌺

AEW Stars React To: You Breaking Your Nose

yall are so sweet; thank you for supporting lil ol me ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Pairings: Kenny Omega x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Hook x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Wheeler Yuta x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, Santana x Reader,

Word Count: 920

Supreme Speaks: idk if I've done this before but here you go! thanks to anon for requesting this. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: mentions of father abandoning a bastard (typical Christian things), not proofread, mentions what happened for the reader to break their nose

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @cassie0sstuff @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Kenny Omega (During training)

Kenny heard a small crack and immediately picked you up

Does not allow you to re-enter the ring and takes you to the doctor

Looks up home remedies to help you

Understands that you’re angry and tries to figure out ways to relieve you

“Do you want a coloring sheet? No, I don’t think you’re a child- okay now you’re acting like one…Yeah-uh”

Tells you stories about when he broke his (I can’t remember if he did) or his friends broke theirs

He tries to distract you from the pain by his jokes or practicing promos in front of you

Will intentionally mess up for you to smile

Kenny’s really upset that you’re injured but tries to brighten your day by any means possible

Eddie Kingston (Your opponent intentionally injured you)

I feel like I always say this…..EDDIE IS BIG MAD

Eddie is big on respect…he’ll respect you as long as you respect him and those he keeps close to him

Once he saw the ref throw up the X sign, oh Penta and Fenix had to hold him back from going to the ring

Then he saw your bloody face….he started to cuss out your opponent

And then he cussed out Kenny and the Bucks for allowing someone with bad blood to go against you

Will drive you personally to the hospital cause he needs to lay eyes on you

He’s ticking in so much anger that you’ll need to calm him down

“I’m fine doll, I just hate how a shithead couldn’t contain their displeasure to themselves. On the bright side, you still looked like a god/goddess....betta than their hating ass”

Santana (You took an extreme bump in the ring)

You took a facebuster on the ladder and then bounced off, rolling outside of the ring

Listen, this man would be the one to stop watching your match just out of fear (he hates you getting hurt)

Like he physically cannot watch the match anymore

Once he saw blood dripping down your face, he automatically asked for the match to be stopped or at least for you to stop participating

When you come backstage, he automatically hugs you as he doesn’t care about the blood on his shirt

“Mi amor, you scared me out there…I thought I had to go jail while you go to the hospital”

You have to hold him back from cursing out your opponent(s)

Distracts you with food and cuddles (DONT @ ME)

Wheeler Yuta (Your opponent accidentally injured you)

Baby boy is sad

He just looks like someone knocked the wind out of him; he hates seeing you bleed

Is subconsciously mad af at your opponent

Will literally baby you for the rest of the day, week, month, hell even year

“You’re not gonna take any more knees to the face. I won’t allow it….NO BIG BOOTS EITHER”

I think he would be the one to buy protective gear for you while Bryan and Mox look on in concern as he picks up everything in the damn store

He thinks that breaking your nose limits all activity and movement for you

Will not let a minute go by without him saying how pretty you are (with and without a straight nose)

Hook (Someone was trying to fight him and they hit you)

Okay…… man is literally the devil

Will make sure that you are okay before tossing the person over his head

He is punching the shit out of them until he looks over at you and sees blood

Hook gives one more punch before carrying you to a safe corner

He immediately gets you ice before taking you to the doctor

Feels guilty about you getting hit, mentally beats himself up

“I’m so sorry that I allowed that to happen.”

I truly do think that Hook would feel so bad and will try his best to make it up to you in any way possible

Will buy flowers, bears, food, a nerf gun (whatever your heart desires)

Ricky Starks (You hit a door)

Imma be honest….he laughed at you

Like full-on cackled as soon as you made contact with the door (it sounded like an evil witch)

But stopped once he saw blood pouring down your face

Feels like a jackass as he brings you to the doctor (I also think he is saying sorry repeatedly)

Once he hears the word surgery, he offers to pay for it

As your spirit starts to pick up and you feel like yourself after the initial wave of shock

Ricky will go back to laughing at you

Will joke about your nose only when you're comfortable and accepting of the fact

“It’s not my fault you got your ass kicked by a damn door”

Christian Cage (A fan threw something at you)

He’s suing and kicking out the bastard who threw the object at you during the meet-and-greet

Tells security to get him and sends Luchasuarus for extra support

He immediately shuts down his booth and walks you to medical support

Sends a tweet that calls out people who think that was cool and okay

“You’re a disappointment, no wonder your father left you”

Holds you and whispers caring thoughts that only you can hear

Buys anything and everything you need (already paid for the surgery)

Offers to buy a security squad so you can protect yourself

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fragile-teacup · 3 months

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On Will’s understanding of Hannibal’s love, his own feelings, and possible developments in S4…

Based on things that Hugh and Bryan have said over the years, I think that it took Will until Mizumono to understand that Hannibal truly loved him, and that he truly loved Hannibal back. Hugh talked at RDC3 about how Will had always idealised love, putting it on a pedestal. He had considered Hannibal incapable of real love because of his ‘black heart’. Even as he allowed himself to be seduced throughout the back half of S2, he considered that on Hannibal’s part it was all manipulation. But then he saw Hannibal’s heartbreak and realised (too late and to his horror) that love isn’t necessarily ‘pure’ or ‘good’. It can be messy and dirty too. And that’s what he spent all of S3 working through - anger, denial, and finally acceptance. I absolutely believe that by TWOTL he had fully accepted Hannibal’s love - and the terrible truth that he returned that love in full measure. Which was why, as Bryan pointed out, Will felt at that point that he had no option but to end them both. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him. Having said that, Bryan also stated that a part of Will wanted them to survive - wanted to give in to what would essentially be Will’s Becoming. And as we know that they DID survive (Bryan, Hugh and Mads have all stated this on numerous occasions), we can reasonably assume that the Murder Husbands are living together in Cuba, under the radar. Now, it’s also been heavily hinted that Will is ‘out of his mind’ in S4, and that some sort of reversal of S1 is involved. But to be honest, with a realisation of S4 looking increasingly unlikely, I’d advise people to pick their favourite post-fall fic and make that their personal headcanon. (I wrote my own S4 scenario as a way of achieving some sort of closure, and I’ve read some other damn fine interpretations of S4!)

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #bryan fuller #meta #season 4 musings

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stranded-labyrinth · 10 months

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sometimes i think about Hannibal crying after the Digestivo breakup, like Bryan said

i think about how he was probably desperate to put himself back together, to remain rigid like he always could, to have the same control over his emotions as he always did.

and then i imagine he just breaks, sobbing harder than he has in decades, because Will has single handedly ruined his ability to keep himself together.

i think about him crying over what he gained and what he's lost, how much he wants to go back inside like their conversation never happened, start it again, maybe say something kinder, something lighter, something that will get that look of hatred out of Will's eyes.

i think about him curled up with his knees to his chest, his face in his hands, sobbing until he feels sick because Will has accepted what he is, and has accepted that he doesn't want him. sobbing because, despite everything, he is too monstrous for Will to love.

and i think about him imagining the pity Will takes on all of his other strays, the love he puts into their rescue, and i think about him realizing that he'll take that pity if it's what he can get.

and i think about him having to realize that it didn't work, and tearing apart his vulnerability by sheer will and spite, because nobody gets to see it who isn't Will.

and i think about when he finally sees Will again, after all that time, and he can't hide his amusement when he asks if they're no longer on a first name basis.

and i think about Will responding in a way that matches what he said three years prior.

and i think about Hannibal's eyes going downcast, realizing that nothing has changed.

and i think about him converting his horrific sadness into petty anger, because Will does not want his vulnerability.

and i think about how his vulnerability peeks out anyway.

and i think about how it worked.

and i think about that stray finding his home in the arms of the man that he loves, even if it's the last thing he ever experiences.

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elegantsplendour · 9 months

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Of Blossom and Betrayal

Summary:

AU: Green victory, the realm called for a new queen after Queen Helena's demise

Seraphina Tyrell did not belong to the worldly realm of Westeros; a lone child conceived of loyalty, love and devotion. A beacon like her attracts the darkest of souls, in the darkest of times.

💌 Aegon II Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: manipulation, abuse of power, mentions of rape, slight underage, dub con, violence. Specific warnings will be added at the beginnings of each chapter.

Cast

Chapter 1

Prologue: Highgarden

Tag list: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @femmechaotic

Other friends: @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @qyburnsghost

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Lord Lyonel Tyrell was a man of honour, loyalty and vigilance. Succeeding in remaining neutral, assuring his family’s survival and maintaining the influence of his house in one of the bloodiest war since Aegon’s Conquest, if not of all of Westerosi history, was an accomplishment that many of his position had dreamt of.

Loyalty? He laughed bitterly at the memory of the bright and confident smile on his long gone brother Bryan’s departing figure to King’s Landing to serve under Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Be loyal to no one but his family, his loved ones.

It was the code he had lived by since Bryan’s unexpected tragic demise at the hands of Rogue Prince himself, a man his poor brother, the innocent messenger sent by King Viserys, admired and sworn loyalty to, fourteen years ago.

Lyonel remembered the day the news of his demise reached his father, the former lord of Highgarden.

People sing that there were six stages of grief.

Shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But when it came to a devoted seventy two year old father, the grief ended in the very first.

Two days later, Lyonel, the second son, whose ambitions never surpassed the allure of marrying Lady Jayne Lannister and sampling the finest wines and sugary with his beloved, inherited the legacy he had never been prepared for.

The Targaryens will always do what’s best for the Targaryens.

Those were his late father’s last words.

To survive the Targaryen rule, Lyonel played by their rules. Schemes, betrayals, deceptions and bloodshed? He did not shy away from them. He bore the burden so his family, his people, didn’t have to.

With his hands on the cold balcony, Lord of Highgarden bathed the fresh air of flowers, the peaceful chirping of insects, the giggling of young maids and the distant melodies from the small folks returning to their homes after a long day of labour.

This was his empire he defended.

One of loyalty, honour and love.

His beloved Jayne, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Seraphina, his precious jewel, his sweet little rose, the one and only fruit of his and Jayne's love's many attempts at blooming.

His Lancel, Bryan's illegitimate offspring, whom he had taken under the Tyrell bloodline, a fierce and honorable knight, a fine protector, his heir.

“Lord Ormund has written again,” Jayne rested her head on his shoulder, her golden curls soothing his skin as much as his mind, “The letter touched me, the words he’s chosen, the sincerity of his voice. He truly desires a betrothal between his first born and Seraphina.”

Jayne traced her fingers on her husband’s cheeks, “He wishes to introduce them in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing?” Lyonel frowned deeply, “It should be fit for them to present themselves to Highgarden, especially when Phina was the one who treated their wounded bodies in the woods, risking the slaughter of the ruthless Northerners.”

Jayne swallowed hard as she recalled the turbulent times of the war.

Although negotiations, strategies and armies kept the castle away bloodshed and dragon fire, the walls were not impenetrable to whimpers of loss and screams agony from the highborn’s well acquainted soldiers calling the Rose without Thorns to their rescue, even at the interdiction of her parents.

Every time the Rose sneaked away from safety, the Lord and Lady of Highgarden sobbed while the peasants and soldiers rejoiced. Her empathetic smile, attentiveness to their wounds and of course, the herbs and food she had carried with her ignited the flicker of hope in the darkest times.

One fateful day, Seraphina stumbled upon two injured knights bedecked in green armor, hidden in the woods—Ormund and Daryn Hightower, gasping for air, on the brink of death from the Battle of Tumbleton.

As Seraphina returned with the blood stained figures of the castle, Lyonel and Jayne’s anger and fear exacerbated.

Highgarden had remained unharmed because of its neutrality that their naive daughter had just broken.

Yet, the gods seemed to show them mercy, perhaps in honor of the lives House Tyrell defended. The Blacks remained oblivious to this act, which could be seen as a declaration of allegiance. Instead, Seraphina’s uncalculated move of benevolence eaned House Tyrell a favourable position in the new Targaryen court: an intimate alliance with the most influential house beside the new king.

As Lyonel contemplated the offer in silence, Jayne squeezed his hand, “Daryn is a handsome, brave and honourable young man. I recognized the look on his face when Seraphina brought him back from the wild,” she pressed a kiss on cheek, “It’s the same way you looked at me years ago, lord husband.”

Lyonel’s gaze softened as he enveloped his wife into his arms with a light chuckle, “Your jest on formality never cease, my love. If the young Hightower truly feels the same about our daughter as I did to you twenty five years ago,” he cupped her cheeks, “Then, perhaps, that boy deserves her hand.”

Jayne held her husband tightly, relishing his scent and warmth. In a world cruel as this, she thanked to the gods everyday for granting her a man of his devotion, wisdom and strength.

“To King’s Landing then?”

“To King’s Landing,” Lyonel nodded before rolling his eyes, his never dying youthful side emerging, “Where the drunken king will be holding a foolish lavish pageant while his people starve. Seven bless the poor girl he will choose as the new queen.”

Jayne laughed wholeheartedly before tending to his arm, returning to the warmth of the interior, “You know, fate favoured us immensely,” she whispered with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety, “If we had agreed to the Kinslayer’s proposal in marriage-“

Lyonel suddenly gripped the touch of her hand, “Thank the wisdom my father and brother had bestowed me. Never trust a Targaryen. The rumours of…” disturbance and disgust written all over his face, “Lady, now a Princess, Cassandra Baratheon’s screams of pain echoed through the Red Keep on her wedding night. I cannot imagine-“

He buried his face in his hands as he sat down with his wife next to the fireplace.

Jayne brushed his hair with adoration, “Don’t overthink about the past, my love. Phina is about to marry a good man.”

The lord smiled as he lifted his head to face his beloved, “Everything I risked, I fought for, it was worth it. For you, for her, for Lancel, and for our people.”

Jayne kissed him passionately before whispering, “You are too good for this world, Lyonel Tyrell.”

As the stars gracefully pirouetted around the moon in the embrace of the night's darkness, and with the imminent date of embarking on the journey to King's Landing drawing near, the wheel of fate began its inevitable revolution once more.

#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen fanfic #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aegon ii fanfic #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #alicent hightower

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foliosriot · 4 months

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You’d Be Better Off On Your Own — Pt. 2

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol and its consumption. some gaslighting and manipulation. dakota being a fucking dick. bad omens being the best friends you could ever ask for.

tags: @concretenoah @malice-ov-mercy @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople

masterlist. part 1.

God, this was such a bad idea. You knew it was an awful idea the moment Nick suggested it, the moment he had spoken it into existence. But alas, here you are, and you’re nowhere near prepared.

It was two days after you caught Dakota cheating when he finally came back around. You almost hadn’t let him into your apartment, but, remembering the look in Nick’s eyes when you had admitted to him how badly you needed to break up with your boyfriend, you found the strength to choke back the bitter taste in your mouth at Dakota’s presence.

But you’d allowed him entry and listened to his half-assed apology anyways. You hadn’t forgiven him or anything close in relation to the word. Instead, you had told him you appreciated the apology but you needed a few more days to yourself. You saw the grimace of anger all over Dakota’s face for just a moment before he accepted.

That night, he left you with a kiss to the cheek and a sickening feeling in your stomach.

Now, here you are, four days later. You’re at a bar with Nick and the rest of Bad Omens, plus Bryan, Matt, and Jesse. You had decided today was the day you are finally ending things with Dakota. Nick stated how proud he is of you and had been more than willing to gather the guys in support of this endeavor.

However, you had made sure to confirm Dakota’s attendance before even mentioning it to Nick. And thankfully you were able to get Dakota to agree to come, despite how much he dislikes your friends.

And that’s all you’re waiting for now.

You’re anxiously watching the guys switch off in a game of pool as you keep one eye on the front entrance of the bar. Dakota should be here by now. What is taking your boyfriend so long? Well, soon to be ex-boyfriend, that is.

As you glance back over to the door for the thousandth time, you’re suddenly thankful that the bar is relatively busy tonight. That way, Dakota will be less likely to cause a scene when you inevitably break up with him.

“Hey.”

You swivel your head to see Nick standing on the other side of the table you had claimed at the beginning of the night. He’s pulled his long hair up into a bun, and his skin a warm bronze in the lowlight of the bar. You make a mental note that he’s taken off his flannel and tied it around his waist since playing pool, which leaves his tattoos on full display. And you hate how momentarily speechless you are by his appearance.

“Oh. Hey.”

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Yeah. I’m fine,” you lie. “Just watching for Dakota.”

Nick looks at the door, his eyes lingering in its direction for a few moments before he’s looking back at you.

“He’ll be here,” he assures you. “In the meantime, come play a round with us. Get rid of some of your anxiety.”

You roll your eyes, and take a not-so subtle final glance at the bar door as you consider his words. Then you’re pushing yourself out of your chair and standing in front of Nick. The lights reflecting in his eyes almost look like stars when you’re face to face with him, and it has the breath catching in your throat.

To set aside the unexpected fluttering in your chest you shove at Nick’s shoulder to get him to move. He stumbles a bit but not without smiling widely at you. You smile back at him as you follow him to the pool table.

Jolly and Bryan holler happily as you approach. Jesse comes up next to you, pushing Nick out of his way, and gives you an extra glass that he had in his grasp. You take it with a smile as he throws his arm over your shoulders. He clinks the two glasses together before downing the contents of his drink, you following suit.

You almost gag at the taste of tequila. Jesse knows how much you hate tequila. But you can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him, especially with that contagious smile on his face and the warmth in his eyes as he looks over at you. You sigh slightly as you smile at him.

Then he’s pulling you into a hug, both arms wrapped securely around you as he sways back and forth.

“You’ve got this,” he says in your ear. “We’re all rootin’ for ya.”

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost break down in tears at your friend’s words. You take a deep breath, breathing in Jesse’s cologne, and murmur a thank you before pulling away. He’s still smiling as he takes your empty glass and walks away.

When Jesse steps away Folio rounds the pool table and shoves one of the cues into your hands.

“You’re up,” he tells you plainly. “Noah and Matt are winning and you know we can’t have that, so get your ass in there and win this shit for us.”

You roll your eyes. “And what makes you think I’ll win against them?” you question him while chalking up the cue.

“Dude, I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Wow, your faith in me is truly unwavering.”

“Just fucking go!” Folio pushes you closer to the table, snatching the chalk from you. “We’re stripes so don’t fuck this up.”

Throwing your middle finger up at him, you finally turn back to the green felt top. And with just a cursory glance you assume there to be about three or four of each type of ball, then the eight and the white. So you walk over to where the white ball sits and angle the cue just so in order to strike the yellow stripe that, if you hit it just right, will fly into the adjacent pocket.

You line up your shot. You draw in a long intake of breath and…

The loud clacking of the pool balls echoes in your skull as you stand up straight. And see, just as you had predicted, the yellow stripe is sliding into the pocket right next to Bryan.

Your friends all clap at your victory. An embarrassed blush heats up your face at their attention, so you give a quick mock curtsey before you’re giving the cue back to Folio and stepping towards Nick.

And Nick is watching you closely as you walk up beside him. He’s leaning against the wall, a small smile gracing his face. His stormy eyes look nearly black.

“Good job, honeybee,” he praises you.

“Thank you,” you murmur. You prop yourself beside him at the wall. “I think that shot of tequila Jesse gave me was truly the thing I needed.”

Nick bumps your shoulder with his. “A little bit of liquid courage never hurt, right?”

You look over at Nick to see him staring intently at you. For a few moments, you trace the lines and structure of his face with your eyes, committing each feature to memory. But you know him like the back of your hand, so why is it necessary for you to memorize this all over again? You don’t care, though. You can feel the tequila softly buzzing in your stomach, the sensation both warm and nauseating as you keep your eyes on Nick.

Your lips part slightly as you’re readying to say something, but the words die on your tongue when you see Nick’s gaze quickly dart down to your mouth. He lingers there for one second, two, three—

A hint of movement catches your attention from the corner of your eye. You turn your head to look that way, and your heart squeezes at the sight of Dakota entering the bar. You stop breathing as you watch him look around before catching sight of you on the opposite end of the building. He starts making his way towards you.

“N-Nick, he’s here,” you whisper. You look back at Nick to see him already following Dakota’s movements. His eyes are cold and swirling with malice. “Nicky—“

“I see him.”

Nick’s tone is flat when he speaks. He slips his hand into yours without looking away from Dakota. He gives a gentle squeeze, and you’re suddenly dizzy.

And just like that, Dakota is finally here, only a few feet away from you and Nick. His eyes drag across all of your friends before stopping on you. And where you’re still holding hands with your best friend. The sight makes Dakota snort.

“Come on, man, holding hands with my girl the moment I show up?” Dakota tsks at Nick. “That’s pretty bold, don’t you think?”

Nick says nothing. You can feel the tension growing between him and Dakota, and you know you need to stamp it out before either of them make a move.

You release your hand from Nick’s grip, then hesitantly approach your boyfriend. The rest of your friends have paused their game and are all watching Dakota closely and carefully, waiting for him to step out of line. And just by looking at him you can’t tell if he’s intimidated by their presence or not. His face is vacant of all emotion and his eyes look hollow.

With a light hand on his arm, you guide Dakota over to the table you had previously been sitting at. You both take a seat, and you chance a look over at Nick, hoping to feel a little surer in this moment.

And there he is, watching from his spot against the wall, hidden at Dakota’s back so he won’t be seen.

You give him a tiny smile before you’re turning your attention to the man sitting across from you at the circular wooden table.

“What are you doing, inviting me here?” Dakota asks bitterly before you have a chance to speak. “If you wanted to hang out we coulda stayed at your place or something.”

His words feel harsh as you process them. It’s almost painful to witness, the way he seems so bored and angry simultaneously. But you try not to let any of it bother you.

“I wanted to be with my other friends too,” you explain simply. “My apartment is too small to fit all of us.”

Dakota considers your response for just a moment before he shrugs. Then he’s fixing his dull eyes on you, and your anxiety is spiking from the way he’s looking at you. You’re growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, and you need to get this over and done with.

“Dakota, look, I-I invited you tonight because…”

You trail off as you anxiously look around the room. That is, until you find yourself staring at Nick from where he’s still leaning against the wall. But he isn’t watching you at this very moment. Instead, you watch as he laughs and smiles at something one of the guys must have said. The warmth that radiates from him calms you down enough to get through this.

“I invited you because I have something I wanted to tell you.”

There’s a flash of panic in Dakota’s eyes, but it quickly vanishes when he gazes at you expectantly.

Deep breath in.

And out.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Dakota doesn’t react at first. You feel your heart pounding inside your chest, beating faster and faster as the silence between you stretches on. You look back over at your friends and see Nick still isn’t watching your interaction with Dakota. At least not until Jolly catches your eye and immediately alerts Nick, who whips around. Your friends all gather to watch Dakota’s reaction.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

Dakota’s voice is dangerously low. It has your racing heart skyrocket into your throat, and you wish you could just shrink and disappear.

You gnaw on your lip before saying in a quiet tone, “Uh, y-yeah. I’m breaking up with you.”

His following laugh sends a leaden spike through your chest. It’s nauseating to hear that bitter and awful laugh resonate in your ears, even though you’ve heard it countless times throughout the years. But it still has you reacting the same: curling in on yourself as you fight back the impending doom of tears.

“God, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dakota chortles, a sinister grin on his face. “Is this because of the texts you saw? The texts you took out of context? Jesus, babe, I told you I was sorry, didn’t I? It’s pathetic for you to act like this after I apologized.”

Your eyes are burning with unshed tears.

You don’t respond.

He laughs again.

“I told you I’m sorry,” he continues. “And you still have the audacity to break up with me. How long have we been together, by the way? This has never happened before and yet you want to end things between us when you know I love you. I’ve been by your side since high school but you think a couple of texts will be the deciding factor—“

Yeah, this was an awful idea, you think to yourself as you tune out Dakota’s voice. This was such a bad idea.

A few tears have fallen since he started talking. Each word is laced with venom and manipulation and you can practically hear your heart giving in to the gaslighting you have suffered from for so long. Tonight could not have gone any worse.

But then there’s someone stepping in between yours and Dakota’s chairs. You blink away your tears and look up to see Nick standing there. Relief begins filtering into your veins at his sudden intervention. And you can’t help but inch closer to him.

“Alright, that’s enough. You need to leave,” Nick says to Dakota.

“Leave? Nah, I’m not going anywhere until my girlfriend is coming home with me,” Dakota counters as he stands from his own chair.

“Did you miss the part where she dumped you?” Nick fires back.

Dakota scoffs. “She didn’t mean that. Did you, babe?”

You cringe at the pet name, the sound of it rolling off of Dakota’s tongue like gravel against your senses. And yet, part of you wants to acknowledge and agree with him. Because surely you didn’t really mean what you said about breaking up with him. Right?

But you did. You truly, wholeheartedly meant it.

You stay quiet.

“I think she meant it, man,” Nick says. He reaches behind until his hand collides with your head, and he blindly cradles the back of your skull. “Which means you need to leave before you cause a scene.”

“I said I’m not leaving without her,” Dakota spits. His voice is rising in volume, and, looking around Nick, you see all of your friends have abandoned the pool game completely and are watching this play out. They all look royally pissed off. “So why don’t you step aside and let me take her home, and we won’t cause a fucking scene.”

“No. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Dakota takes a half step closer to Nick. However, you also watch as Noah and Matt move in a little closer as well.

“Yeah? Then why doesn’t she tell me herself, dick?”

You don’t like how Dakota is talking to Nick. The anger and resentment you have felt for so long is finally all bubbling to the surface. You can’t take the berating and obvious jealousy that is permeating from Dakota. So you get to your feet from behind Nick, thus catching the eyes of all involved parties. You straighten your spine as you press yourself into Nick. His hand slides down to the small of your back.

“I’m not going anywhere with you ever again, Dakota,” you state, swallowing back the tears stinging your eyes and throat. “I meant what I said. We’re done.”

Dakota’s face contorts with rage. He makes a move towards Nick but Noah and Matt are already right behind him. You see him glare at Nick for a few prolonged seconds before he’s turning his fiery gaze onto you.

Dakota doesn’t stay much longer after that. With the presence of Noah and Matt looming over him he finally backs away. But he doesn’t leave without at least one more attempt at a scathing remark.

“Fuck you, bitch,” he barks at you. “You just wanted me gone so you’d have an excuse to fuck these assholes, huh? Well, don’t come crying back to me when they can’t satisfy you like you know only I can.”

Nick is the one to make a move forward then, and he only stops when you tug on his arm with both of your hands. His face is a steel canvas of rage as he stares down Dakota. Thankfully, Noah is the one to say something before anyone could throw a punch.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude,” he tells Dakota. “This is just getting pathetic.”

Dakota looks somewhat taken aback by Noah’s words, but he does listen. He takes one more look at all of your friends, spits on the floor, and stomps out of the bar.

Once Dakota has disappeared beyond the entrance to the bar, it’s almost like your heart gives out. The once rampant beating of the muscle is suddenly sluggish and near non-existent as you finally begin shaking from beside Nick. Tears are now steadily streaming down your cheeks and your lungs feel shriveled from inside the confines of your chest. At the quiet sound of you wheezing Nick turns to you.

Your vision is blurry from tears but you feel the warmth of Nick’s hands cradling either side of your face. His thumbs swipe gently at your cheekbones, your own hands clutching at his wrists.

“Honeybee.” Nick’s breath ghosts over your face. “Hey, I need you to look at me.”

It’s a struggle at first but you’re able to blink away the tears clinging to your eyelashes so you can look at your best friend. And there he is, his pale eyes staring back at you with a glaze of worry covering them.

“Oh, there she is,” he says softly. “How are you feeling? You okay?”

You blink a couple more times before you respond.

“I-I’m okay,” you tell him honestly.

“You sure?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s just … a lot to process at the moment,” you say with a halfhearted chuckle.

Nick huffs out a laugh. His breath is tickling your chin and that dizzying feeling from earlier is settling in again. You feel as light as a feather as you stare back at Nick; your head is spinning, but not in a bad way you suppose. It’s just different.

The two of you remain in silence for a bit longer. You can tell that you’ve finished crying for the time being, and you hardly think about how much of a mess you must look to the bar’s other patrons. There’s little time to think when Nick is still stroking your face with a delicate touch and successfully distracting you from any other disruption.

You’re sure he could feel this weight lifting off of your shoulders.

You lean forward to rest your forehead against Nick’s. At the contact you hear him sigh quietly. You’re still shaking as you remain in that position for a bit longer.

But your heart is suddenly racing again and you don’t understand why. And Nick’s hands are burning your flesh like brands with the way he is holding your face so delicately. You can feel a panic attack approaching for no apparent reason, but the tequila in your digestive tract feels warm and bubbly and distracts you from the panic and anxiety you’re experiencing.

Now, you think you may be slightly delirious. Especially with the way you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Nick’s lips and the way they’re open partially as he relishes in the quiet between you. But you are going to let yourself indulge in the delirium for a moment more.

With your thumbs grazing his pulse point at his wrists, you lean further into Nick. You see his eyes fly open when you are but a fraction of an inch away from connecting your mouths. His breath is scalding hot.

If either of you spoke your lips would meet, and that prospect has the delirium making your head hazy. And you don’t see the harm in it as you close the minute distance.

Nick doesn’t react right away. But then you’re pressing your body into his and your hands are journeying down to his elbows and he just can’t help himself.

You weren’t expecting this ravenous side of your best friend, but you can’t deny you like it. Because god, you fucking love the sensation of his lips against yours and the way his grip on your face tightens. You love the graze of his stubble rubbing into your chin and how addictive the taste of him is.

But then, as fast as it started, it’s ending. Nick pulls away from you very slowly, his breathing heavy.

“Honeybee, I…”

You impatiently wait for him to go on.

“I don’t think we should do this right now,” he finally tells you with a reverent voice. Like you’re the only two people in this entire bar.

“Why?” you counter just as softly.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“But Nicky—“

“No. As much—“ Tears are pricking your eyes once more at the sudden hardening of Nick’s voice, though it remains quiet. “As much as I want to, we can’t, okay? At least not right now. I’m not gonna take advantage of you like that.”

Your heart is shattering for the second time in the span of an hour. You didn’t think any form of rejection from Nick would hurt so bad. But you’re suffering more than you would have ever anticipated.

“Honeybee, please,” Nick continues. The hardness has left his voice, and has been replaced by something akin to pleading. “I need you to understand that I want to keep doing this. I want to fix everything that Dakota broke. But you need time to heal and time to recover from what he did to you. I’ll help you in whatever ways I can, but not like this. Not yet. Okay?”

A few tears escape your eyes. And Nick immediately wipes them away.

You feel awful. Why did you kiss him? Why did you kiss your best friend right after breaking up with your long term boyfriend? That was the worst possible thing you could have done.

But you wanted to. You can’t get over just how badly you had wanted to do so. It was so visceral and so overwhelming, you had needed to act on it.

And yet, you know Nick is right. You can’t do this right now. You need to heal and fix what is damaged because of Dakota. There is much to do after so many years of being with him, but you know Nick is always going to be there for you no matter what. The thought has a wave of relief overtaking you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay. Let’s get you home now.”

So you let Nick take you home. But not before each and every one of your friends embraces you in individual hugs and showering you with praise on how brave and strong you are for leaving Dakota. Their words fill your heart with love and gratitude.

You settle into the passenger seat of Nick’s car and watch the scenery pass by through the window. Your eyes flutter shut at some point, exhaustion creeping in after such a harrowing evening.

Then, some time later, you wake up to find yourself curled up in bed. Your bedroom door is ajar, and there’s light and sound coming from the living room. You don’t have to guess in order to know who’s in your apartment with you. A soft smile graces your face.

You’re able to turn over and go back to sleep with the reminder of Nick watching over and protecting you.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

a/n: idk guys what do we think about a part 3? cuz i myself have no idea and would love some feedback thank youuu

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